


All In My Head

by shessocold



Series: Summer of '99 [3]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 1910s, Anal Sex, Canon Compliant, Canon Gay Character, Canon Gay Relationship, Dom/sub Undertones, Ex Sex, Flirting, Foreplay, Jealousy, Legilimency, M/M, Mind Games, Old Friends, Reminiscing, Sexual Fantasy, Vienna
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-02-29 13:53:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18779599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shessocold/pseuds/shessocold
Summary: Vienna, 1911.





	All In My Head

It takes twelve years for the longing to overpower the resentment, a week for Albus to track down Gellert in Vienna, and a mere moment for Gellert's smile to melt away the last traces of Albus' pride.

“Hello, Gellert. Good evening.” 

“You came!” says Gellert (same blond hair, same merry face, same clear blue eyes), holding open the door to his apartment. “Albus, I'm so happy to see you.” 

_Are you?_ thinks Albus – his feelings of suspicion coloured by a twinge of sadness – but already Gellert's inviting him in, taking his cloak and hat, conjuring cups of hot coffee for them to drink. Albus takes a seat on a dark green sofa, opposite Gellert’s armchair. 

“Were you really expecting me to drop by?” he says, trying to make a joke out of it. “Confidence's never been an issue for you, I have to say.” 

Gellert shrugs. 

“I knew you'd know how to find me, and I hoped someday you would want to.” 

Albus says nothing. Gellert’s English is still excellent, but his accent is much harsher than it used to be, a reminder of all the years they’ve been apart, a reminder of the _reason_ why they’ve been apart. He feels drained, almost as if on the verge of an illness. Gellert leans forward slightly, the intensity of his gaze dizzying. 

“You’re staying for dinner, of course?” 

** 

Gellert has a maid - a Muggle woman in her very early twenties, Albus estimates, blonde and buxom. Her face is beautiful, and her gown is so low cut that it’s almost impossible to avoid staring at the upper curves of her pale breasts. Midway through their meal, Albus is struck by a sudden realization. 

“You’ve been fucking her,” he says, as soon as the maid leaves the room. “You have, haven’t you?” 

Gellert’s lips quirk in amusement. 

“Of course I have,” he replies, looking up from his plate to fix his startling blue eyes on Albus. “Really, Albus, did you think me celibate?” 

“I didn’t…” says Albus, trailing off as he feels Gellert’s clear gaze begin to pry his mind open. He allows it, despite the fact that he knows exactly what Gellert will find - what he will see. 

_The boy is seventeen, Albus is twenty-four. At first he doesn’t want to act on his desires - his sense of propriety, his fear of being caught and disgraced winning over his basest instincts. But he’s lonely, and the boy is charming, his blond head glinting in the bright summer light as he tilts his head to ask yet another question, his eyes alive with admiration for his favourite teacher, his cheeks always slightly flushed. His mother is German, it turns out, which explains the vague resemblance to Gellert, but the nose is all wrong - which is why Albus always makes sure that the boy is facing away from him before giving in to the temptation and fucking his pale, muscular arse._

“A student!” says Gellert, delighted. “Why, I never would have thought. Tell me, was it as good as it was with me?” 

“Not even remotely,” says Albus, who knows perfectly well that Gellert knows the answer already and wants to hear him say it out loud. He’s more than willing to oblige. “It could never be as good as it was with you.” 

“I’ve fucked her on this very table,” brags Gellert, his tone low and crude. “Bent her over, lifted her skirts, fucked her until she couldn’t take it anymore. You should have heard the way she moaned, Albus.” 

Albus drops his fork, his brain filled with visions of Gellert’s hands on the young maid’s round hips. Whether they’re mere fantasies supplied by his jealous mind or actual memories instilled by Gellert’s unwavering gaze, he couldn’t tell. It doesn’t really matter. Careful not to let his feelings show (blood pumping into his cock with every beat of his thumping heart), Albus swallows around a lump in his throat. He’d fooled himself into thinking things could be done differently, this time around, but he’ll take whatever Gellert is willing to give. As always. 

“Everything you’ve done to her,” he promises, as menacing as he can possibly manage to sound, “I will do to you.” 

Gellert actually, physically shivers with anticipation. Albus’ cock jumps inside his trousers. 

“And if you don’t behave,” he adds, the need to see Gellert lose his composure overwhelming, “I’m going to make _her_ watch.” 

“You would never,” pants Gellert, neck splotchy, gripping a fistful of his fine tablecloth. “You wouldn’t dare.” 

“Does she know?” insists Albus, leaning in slowly. “Does she have any idea of how much her master enjoys a good fucking? Would she like to hear you squeal like a piglet, Gellert?” 

As if on cue, the maid walks in, carrying an ornate silver tureen. She has plump, red lips. Albus pictures them wrapped around Gellert’s cock, the way he’s always dreamt of doing and never could, and he’s filled with a dull sort of anger -- towards her, towards Gellert, towards himself. 

“Dismiss her,” he orders, and Gellert briefly speaks German to the puzzled woman, who nods and turns on the spot, tureen intact, the door sealing itself in her wake. “Good. Now tell me, where should we start?” 

Gellert stands up, his legs trembling slightly as he walks over to where Albus is sitting and slowly lowers himself to a kneeling position. He looks up at Albus, the blue of his irises almost entirely swallowed by the black pits of his pupils, and he wills him to dive into his mind. 

_The maid is looking up at Gellert’s cock - hard, long, powerful. In her eyes, Albus can see the telling signs of what has been his baseline state for many, many years: a burning desire for Gellert, for his handsome face, for his outstanding mind, for his _beautiful_ cock, and at the same time an undercurrent of trepidation, of… _

_‘Fuck me,’ mouths the kneeling maid, her trembling breasts threatening to escape the confines of the gown, and..._

… and all of a sudden the illusion is shattered completely. It takes Albus a lot of self-control to avoid bursting into laughter. 

“Get up,” he orders, frowning down at the grinning Gellert. “You _horrible_ liar.” 

“What gave it away?” inquires Gellert, getting to his feet. He’s fully hard inside his trousers, notices Albus with great satisfaction. “I thought it was some of my best work!” 

“To the table,” instructs Albus, briskly, ignoring the question. Gellert obliges. “Undo your trousers. Bend over.” 

“Seriously, what was it?” 

“I’m not sure I should tell you, Gellert,” says Albus, unceremoniously lowering Gellert’s underwear. Gellert makes a small, delighted sound. “Merlin knows you don’t need any help.” 

“You fell for it, thought, didn’t you?” 

“Shut up,” says Albus, grinning as he unfastens his trousers. Gellert looks back over his shoulder, and he’s grinning too, and for a moment it’s like they’re eighteen again.

**Author's Note:**

> (It's because the maid wouldn't have said "fuck me" in English, Gellert)


End file.
